


This Time No

by savvierthanu



Category: The Eagle (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvierthanu/pseuds/savvierthanu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saturnalia!fic. Which pretty much means Marcus gets on his knees and stays there for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time No

_  
_

"On your knees."

Marcus struggles to comply, not because he's unwilling, but because his center of balance is thrown off a bit from the excess of wine he enjoyed at dinner and the stiffness of his knee. They're in his cubiculum, so he's protected from the cold stone of the floor by a thick wolfskin thrown down as a rug. Somewhat unsure, he fists his hands on his knees and keeps his eyes down, watching the play of shadows from the braziers.

He can hear as Esca circles him, the pad of his feet against the floor, quiet and measured. Esca had not had much to drink at the Saturnalia feast, claiming that both the wine and the honeyed mead were too sweet for him. Marcus had allowed himself a cup of unwatered wine and he can feel it churning warmly in his stomach.

And now Esca has him on his knees, at his mercy. He had asked--no, demanded--and Marcus just. Went. Something prickles up his spine at the thought and he has to swallow down the words he can feel starting to bubble up to fill the silence. Esca stops in front of him and Marcus stares at the rug between his feet, replaying how they got here in his head.

The slaves had insisted that Marcus and his uncle join them for the feast, for, as they had said, it would be much easier if everyone passed food and drink amongst themselves rather than wait for the two Roman masters to fetch what they asked. Marcus suspects they were partially taking pity on him and his wounded leg and partially humoring the Aquilae and their strange holiday custom. He has yet to discover how the Britons celebrate the coinciding solstice, but he knows it's significant to them. He had tried to ask Esca several times during the meal, but Esca had just shrugged and helped himself to more food each time. Marcus found himself disappointed, for he had thought that he and Esca had built up a rapport over the past several months. A tense rapport, perhaps, but occasionally Esca didn't look at him with hatred simmering behind his eyes.

After dinner, Marcus had insisted that he help carry some of the dishes to the kitchen. After that, he had come to his cubiculum to begin his nightly routine. He had gotten as far as washing his face and hands when Esca had walked in and ordered him to his knees. And he went.

He's brought out of his thoughts by Esca fisting a hand in his hair and tilting his face up to look at him. Esca looks the same as he ever does, but there's a tightness in his face, a darkness in his eyes. He looks almost unsure, Marcus thinks. That's strange, a voice in his head whispers.

"They say you Romans exchange gifts on this holiday."

Marcus licks his lips without thinking. "This is true."

"So what gift shall I give to you?"

"I'm guessing you have something in mind." Esca's fist tightens in his hair, the pain bringing pinpricks of tears to Marcus' eyes and making his pulse jump.

"Answer the question. Marcus."

Marcus can't help but shiver at the use of his name, which would usually be punishable by a sound lashing. But, tonight, Esca has the upper hand. Some would say that Marcus is merely allowing him to have it, but Esca wields it far too well for Marcus to simply end this and expect him to immediately step back into being the obedient slave.

And if one of the things roiling in Marcus' stomach with the wine is a not inconsiderable amount of want? Well.

"Whatever you wish to give me."

The words sit heavily in the cool air. Esca's hold loosens a bit.

"That is not an answer I would expect of a Roman."

"Tonight I am not a Roman. I am your slave." 'I am yours,' he almost adds, but it's too close to the truth and this is a game. A game that went too far by any decent Roman's standards the second Esca ordered Marcus to do his will. Lately Marcus has had his fill of Rome and its standards and good intentions. Esca has sworn not to harm him, so he can put himself in someone else's hands tonight.

Esca doesn't speak for a long moment, but something in his face softens a bit. He releases his hold on Marcus' hair and touches his rough fingers to Marcus' mouth, learning the shape of it.

Marcus can't help but let out a shaky breath and feel himself flush, parting his lips slightly.

"There is so much that you Romans do not allow yourselves. Such simple pleasures."

Eye level with Esca's groin, Marcus can't ignore the way the fabric of his tunic is no longer lying flat. A sudden surge of arousal flows through him, unbidden but not unwelcome. It has been a long time since he has enjoyed the touch of a man, a long time since his adolescence when such things were permitted.

Before he has time to think, Marcus is leaning in to press his face to Esca's hip, feeling the growing hardness against his jaw. Rome's arm may be long, but it cannot see everything. And it is Saturnalia, so, in a way, he is honoring the gods by submitting.

"Let this be my gift," he says, the words muffled by the rough wool of Esca's tunic. "If you would have me," he adds, experiencing sudden doubt. Esca may have instigated this, but he could have simply wanted to see Marcus on his knees, to test the boundaries of this night. It might have been a joke, for all Marcus knows of his taciturn slave.

Esca chuckles, low and thick. He steps back, and Marcus is suddenly afraid that this was indeed a joke, a ploy to make him humiliate and debase himself. But Esca has simply taken some space to undress, removing his tunic and the shirt beneath it to reveal pale, goose-fleshed skin. He then works to unfasten his breeches, pushing them down his lean thighs to stand unselfconsciously naked. Marcus clenches his hands into fists against his thighs and watches as Esca moves to sit on Marcus' bed, leaning back on his elbows in a casual sprawl, legs spread enough that Marcus can see his erection crawling up towards his stomach as it hardens.

"Come on, then," Esca says, smirking like someone accustomed to being obeyed

Marcus turns and shuffles the few feet over to the bed on his knees, settling himself just inches away, not touching. Esca looks at him patiently, a slightly imperious tilt to his chin.

Marcus lets out a long breath through his nose and places his hands on Esca's bony knees, spreading them a bit wider to accommodate his large frame. He then runs them up the length of Esca's thighs, nearly invisible hairs tickling his palms as they move upwards. He runs the careful fingers of one hand over the length of Esca's penis, watching as it twitches at the touch.

Emboldened, Marcus takes it in his hand, curling his fingers around it loosely and stroking it a few times. He feels the foreskin shift as his hand moves, the velvety skin tightening as Esca grows harder. Marcus watches, fascinated, until he feels one of Esca's hands clamp onto the back of his neck and begin to pull his head downwards. He shouldn't be surprised that Esca is impatient.

Marcus allows his head to be maneuvered closer to Esca's cock until the tip is pressed against his lower lip. He quickly wets his lips, tongue swiping briefly against Esca's slit, and he can hear Esca suck in a gasp. He hasn't done this in years, but his hand is still wrapped around the base and the mechanics aren't exactly difficult. Marcus opens his mouth and takes in the head, licking around it a bit before sliding his lips downward.

Esca's grip on his neck doesn't falter, but Marcus can feel the faint tremor in it. His mouth has reached his fist, so he hollows his cheeks and sucks as he pulls back, rewarded by the sound of Esca taking a shaky breath and the muscles in his thighs tensing. Marcus begins bobbing his head, knowing that his technique is lacking but hoping his limited experience can carry him through. He eventually becomes comfortable enough that he flattens the hand holding Esca's cock, cradling it in the space between his forefinger and thumb so he can stroke his thumb over Esca's tightening balls.

Reaching a rhythm also allows Marcus to catalog some of the more intimate details. Like the way Esca smells slightly of loam and sweat, or the way his pubic hair curls. He chances a glance up and finds that Esca is looking back at him, eyes dark and intense though his mouth is slack and there is color high on his cheeks. His chest is heaving and Marcus can see his ribs expand with each breath. He makes a mental note to ensure that Esca eats more.

As though he notices Marcus' concentration flagging, Esca begins tilting his hips up, his hand moving up into Marcus' hair. Marcus swallows around him reflexively, and is rewarded with the sight of Esca tilting his head back, the long line of his throat bobbing as he swallows heavily around a groan. Heat has been steadily pooling between Marcus' legs, but the sight of Esca letting go of a bit of his composure makes him painfully aware of his cock straining against the front of his breeches.

Marcus swallows again against the combination of precome and saliva that's beginning to drip down his chin and Esca's hand twitches. He pulls back a bit to lick a little sloppily around the crown, wrapping his hand around the shaft again and pumping it as he works. Esca's legs just fall open around him, and Marcus is suddenly bombarded with the image of himself crawling up and settling between those lithe thighs, letting them wrap around his waist as he drapes himself over Esca, covering him with his bulk. Instead, he lays his free hand flat on Esca's trembling stomach, nudges one of his shoulders beneath Esca's knee, and leans in to suck him as far into his mouth as he can.

Esca snarls and begins spurting against the back of Marcus' throat without warning, making him choke a bit. Marcus pulls back to cough and semen spatters against his cheeks and lips as Esca climaxes, sucking in shuddering breaths. Too aroused to feel humiliated, Marcus watches as Esca trembles through the last of his orgasm, still holding his cock in a loose grip. He allows Esca's leg to slip off his shoulder and sits back on his haunches, ignoring the protesting of his bad leg and absently licking his lips, tasting bitter and salt and Esca.

They watch each other, Esca's chest rising and falling unevenly and Marcus' face dripping, Marcus being a little too shocked to do anything about it since he's got his own breath to get under control.

But then Esca levers himself up to sitting and takes Marcus' face in his hands, licking a broad stripe through the mess from chin to cheekbone, catching the corner of his mouth as he goes. Marcus is taken aback, but doesn't stop him, not even as he does it again. Seemingly satisfied, Esca wipes at the rest of the mess with a corner of the sheet, his touch firm yet gentle on Marcus' face.

"Get on the bed before your leg cramps," Esca says, no room for argument in his tone. Marcus pushes himself onto the bed with little difficulty and sits there awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself. Esca lets out a put upon sigh and shoves at Marcus until he's laid out on his back, Esca kneeling over him. He runs his hands over the places that usually pain Marcus and kneads at the muscles a bit, watching for Marcus' reaction.

"It's fine," Marcus breathes, not sure if the game is over and if Esca is going to leave now that he's presumably gotten what he wanted. Marcus is more than used to taking matters into his own hands.

"Your leg may be, but this," Esca lays his hand on Marcus' straining erection, "needs taking care of." Marcus lets out a high, embarrassing whine at the contact and bucks his hips.

All he can do is clutch at the sheets as Esca sweeps one hand up under his loose tunic to roam over his chest and stomach as he uses the other to tease open the fastenings at his waist. Esca then tugs Marcus' breeches down enough to expose him, making Marcus hiss as the cool air meets sensitive skin. But Esca's hand is warm when he wraps it around Marcus' cock, his callouses an inviting tease at friction.

Through bleary eyes Marcus catches a flash of pink as Esca licks his lips, and then he begins leaning down and Marcus' hand shoots out to grasp his shoulder before he can fully process why. "No. Don't."

Esca raises his eyebrow, but stops, giving Marcus the look that feels a lot like Esca calling him a fool. "Do I not get a gift as well?" he asks.

"Of course, but your gift was--"

"That, as I recall, was your gift, Marcus. Am I not allowed to ask for the same thing?"

It's such a practical question that Marcus has to choke out a startled, strangled laugh. "You may ask for whatever you like, it's just--"

"Is your gift not suitable for me for some reason?" Esca runs his thumb idly along the vein in Marcus' cock, robbing him of his already meager ability to think clearly.

" _No_ , you can't-- _I'm_ the slave, tonight." Marcus tries to squeeze Esca's shoulder to make him understand.

"Ah," Esca says, like he understands, and Marcus breathes out a sigh of relief. "You Romans quibble over the strangest things. If I am the master, I shall have what I want, and you may not stop me." And with that, Esca flexes out of Marcus' grip and descends upon him with his mouth, forcing a low, broken sound out of Marcus. And there's really nothing Marcus can do about it, since the pleasure is steadily edging out the lingering doubts.

Esca's better at this than Marcus, his mouth a cavern of wet, grasping heat as he devours Marcus' cock, making low sounds in the back of his throat as he works. All too soon the pleasure overwhelms him and Marcus comes, back arching and fists twisting in the sheets, his senses leaving him in a rush.

He comes back to himself panting and staring at the ceiling, dimly aware of Esca stripping him of his breeches. He feels Esca leave the bed and forces himself up on his elbows to watch as Esca walks across the room, poking at the coals in the braziers and pouring a cup of water from the pitcher--essentially doing his typical nightly duties, only in the nude. Suddenly Marcus is very aware of his softening cock laying against his thigh, so he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, closing his knees.

Esca approaches, his face unreadable, and hands him the cup. Marcus takes a long drink and hands the cup back before pulling his tunic over his head, folding it haphazardly and dropping it on the floor. The game is over, he thinks. Tomorrow will simply be another day. But Esca refills the cup and takes a drink himself, once again transfixing Marcus with the working of his throat.

"Tonight, we share the bed," Esca says, casually demanding as he replaces the cup and makes his way over. He crawls behind Marcus and sprawls out next to the wall, making himself comfortable. Marcus scrubs a hand through his hair and blows out the lamp, sending the room into flickering darkness.

He lies back, settling the furs over both of them and trying to avoid touching Esca unless absolutely necessary.

He hears Esca huff an annoyed breath and turns his head to find Esca trying to settle on his side, his back wedged against the wall. "You're warm, but you take up far too much room." Marcus can just make out the crease between his eyebrows.

"I could . . . use your pallet?"

"Don't be ridiculous, that defeats the entire purpose."

Marcus shifts onto his side, facing away from Esca and hoping that Esca hasn't been enduring the cold all these past winter nights without saying anything. "You should have said something if you were cold."

"I've been colder," is the terse reply, gusted between his shoulder blades.

Marcus contemplates this for several moments, weighing his options and Esca's pride. "I'll get you more blankets." Esca doesn't reply.

Several more minutes pass, and Marcus considers the body at his back, radiating heat and breathing softly, a stray knee pressed against the back of his thigh.

"Or we could share the bed," he adds carefully, not sure whether or not Esca is asleep. "I can appreciate the extra warmth, and I expect no more than that."

The silence drags out for long enough that Marcus assumes Esca must be asleep, so he closes his eyes and begins to drift off.

"It will be welcome in the bitter months." Esca sounds grudgingly appreciative.

"Then you need not ask. I will not have you freeze."

Esca blows out a quiet laugh, ending the conversation, and Marcus allows himself to fall asleep, glad that something of this night will still be there when he wakes. 


End file.
